


I'm Into Something Good

by Lucky107



Series: Pride and Disgrace [3]
Category: Fallout 2
Genre: Bad Flirting, Gen, Intimidation, Swearing, Threats of Violence, Undercover As Prostitute, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8327365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky107/pseuds/Lucky107
Summary: For reasons that Miss Kitty can't understand, Aslaug wants to meet Myron.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Into Something Good - Herman's Hermits - 1964

The Cat's Paw is a hole in the wall; you blink and you miss it.  Despite its reputation for being the only 'clean' joint in all of New Reno, it's easy to miss amid the canvas of graffiti that the town has become.  Racial slurs and incoherent rambling on the walls shouts far louder than any crier standing in the street and Aslaug is just glad for an escape.

"Why, if it isn't Reno's most famous prizefighter!"  Miss Kitty greets with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.  Aslaug is barely through the door.  "What's your pleasure today, my dear?  My treat."

"Actually," Aslaug says.  "I'd like to ask you something, Miss—"

"— _Kitty_."

Aslaug hesitates a moment, perhaps with surprise, when Miss Kitty interrupts her.  Hurriedly she picks up where she left off: "Your girls go to visit Myron—"

"Myron?"  Despite the bomb Aslaug's dropped onto her desk, Miss Kitty manages to mask most of her surprise.  "Now, where did you ever pick up _that_ name?"

"I—"

"You know what, dear?  Forget it," Miss Kitty says.  She does that thing with her hair, using a delicate and fickle hand to brush those gold strands of silk back over her shoulder.  "We usually have to train the girls extensively to suppress their natural revulsion—"

"—I want to meet him."  Aslaug roughly slams her hands down onto Miss Kitty's desk, startling the older woman.

The aggression and unnatural impatience in Aslaug's response is concerning, but she doesn't ask questions.  She knows Aslaug can handle herself.  "If you're... serious... you can take a seat here and I'll present you as an applicant when a lieutenant from the Mordino family arrives."

Miss Kitty tries to search for answers in Aslaug's face, but her eyes are guarded.  Whatever urgency was there has been appeased when Aslaug responds with a short, "Thank you."

Aslaug takes her seat.

While Miss Kitty just shakes her head and returns to her work, she keeps one watchful eye on the enigmatic tribal.  It's apparent that Aslaug is resigned to her decision, however, and for reasons that Miss Kitty can't understand, she _wants_ to meet Myron.

 

When the Mordino lieutenant arrives, he arrives loudly and without grace.  The door is thrown open by the force of his boot and he calls on Miss Kitty crudely: "Where is she?"

"Here," Aslaug says, standing from her seat.

The man offers Aslaug only a fleeting, judgmental glance before asking, "This one?  Are you sure?"

"That's her," Miss Kitty confirms shortly.  She, too, rises from her seat behind her desk to remind the lieutenant that she runs an independent, but no-nonsense establishment.  "She's the new flavor - don't you approve?"

This time the lieutenant offers more than a passing glance at the merchandise; she's taller than the regular selection of women at the Cat's Paw - and stronger, too.  She's not shy about her well-toned physique, perhaps using her revealing apparel to enhance the appeal, and her hair is loosely twisted to give her a medusa-like appearance that—

The girl's a damn tribal.

"Alright," he relents under the pressure of Miss Kitty's stare.  "I'll take you to the Stables, if you'll follow me."

\- - -

The first thing to hit Aslaug's sensitive senses when she enters the basement, besides the profound lack of light, is the overpowering cloud of chemical fumes.  It's so strong that it burns her nose and she grunts in displeasure.  The lieutenant offers, "If you become a regular, you'll be here enough to get used to it."

Aslaug presses the back of her hand to her nose to filter the strength of the fumes.

Her escort exchanges words with a pair of large, muscled men and no doubt buys her passage to Myron's chambers, so Aslaug plays inconspicuous until she's been given the go-ahead.

"Only thing you need to know 'bout the Stables is that this is Myron's cesspit," the lieutenant warns in a final debriefing.  "Don't get curious; you're not to touch anything.  Once you've finished with him, one of these boys will escort you back to the Cat's Paw.  Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

When Aslaug opens the door to let herself in, she staggers upon hitting a wall of fumes.  _Mercy._   "Why hello there, beautiful.  What can Myron do to - aha - for you?"

The laboratory's only source of light is the blue glow of the computer monitors and a dim, flickering bare bulb hung from the ceiling of the next room over.  In this light, the boy's pasty skin and pale hair casts an unnatural sort of glow.

"You must be one of Mordino's new whores," Myron sneers, putting down the beaker in his hand.  His big, buggy blue eyes give her a lewd once-over.  "Say, you got a name to go with those legs, sweetheart?"

"Aslaug."

An uncommon name in New Reno - a tribal name.  Myron's mind lags, foggy with the fumes of whatever's cooking in that beaker on the lab bench, but slowly his situation is catching up with him.  It isn't the first time he's seen Aslaug in the flesh; he was ringside when she ripped a man's ear off, if he's remembering that correctly.

With her teeth.

"Is that so...?"  The change in tone doesn't come as a surprise; Aslaug's not exactly one of Miss Kitty's dainty 'regulars'.  "Why are you here, huh?  Thought you could hit Myron up for some free drugs?"

"I—" But the thought is lost.  "Like what?"

"Are you stupid?"  Myron exasperates.  "Jet, bitch—"

One powerful, domineering hand lashes out like a venomous snake and sinks its teeth into the teenager's throat.  Myron is thrown back against the wall and crushed beneath Aslaug's vice-like grip.  "Watch it," she warns, her voice a rumble like thunder from deep within her chest.

All of the boy's struggling proves futile - his sneakers can't even find the floor, try as he may - but as quickly as it comes, the attack is over.

Myron slides to the floor in defeat.

"Egad," he wheezes.  Aslaug reverts to a docile state, as if the entire ordeal was a mere figment of Myron's imagination, but the bruises will serve as a very real reminder for days.  "You're a real brute, huh, beautiful?"


End file.
